Over muffins and eggrolls
by Redemption Moon
Summary: Ken 'accidentally' meets Crawford in a coffeeshop on his way to a job interview. There are really days that are just plain... weird. Fluff and minor wuff involved. Oneshot. Goodness, I hate writing reviews.


RedemptionMoon : I can't believe I've been gone for more than a year. I feel so guilty! That's why I've been scribbling these little drabbles during classes I don't like. LOL. Anyway, I hope you like this. It's a little one-shot that just formed in my mind during statistics class.

Oh, BTW, I have a livejournal account now. Look for the username Redemption-moon or if you can't find it you can access the url from my page here. I plan to post stuff there if I get the time but I'd really appreciate it if you'd drop a line there too or add me. :D

† † †

He had never imagined it possible even in his wildest dreams. It had never crossed his thoughts even in missions that something like that could ever happen. In his mind, it had always been something close to impossible, or strongly improbable that he scrapped the very provocation of the thought.

And yet, here he was, standing dumbly face to face with the Oracle, the American cobalt-eyed leader of Schwarz.

He had gotten up early- earlier than even his usual wake up time. Yet today, he wasn't going jogging as he usually was wont to do. He had a job interview today and there was no use going there tired or overly-energized (the way he always was after a good morning jog) if he wanted to flirt with the chance of ever getting hired.

He had gotten enough of the florist routine, not exactly because he hated the job itself, no, he actually liked what he did; but getting constantly pissed with his teammates was just too much for his frayed nerves to take- they were driving him totally nuts!

Omi, Yohji – they were tolerable some of the time but gads! Aya! Aya was plain unbearable. He was the spawn of the devil himself minus the face paint, trident and pointed tail!

The redhead would do nothing but reprimand him all day as often as he humanly could for every tiny thing Ken did. He couldn't goddamn _breathe_ without getting some sort of bullshit from the redhead.

Kritiker had never said that he HAD to work as a florist; it was just something convenient so that he could easily go to meetings and mission briefings but it wasn't necessarily mandatory. So, he was taking a risk and switching daytime careers. He doubted that the people from high up would appreciate an insane assassin in their hands.

He was keyed up about it. He really wanted the job as soccer varsity coach not just because of the opportunity to be able to play again somewhat, but to be with people who actually understand, appreciate and love the sport, although being able to play with real players (though just college varsity level) absolutely thrilled him and consisted 89 of his decision. He heard the pay was absolutely terrific, the college's reputation was great and they had free faculty housing plus the campus was amazing. It doesn't get any better than that.

It was a little far – way across to the other side of the city, but that was the beauty of it! He could live away from the rest of the Weiß team on non-mission days and still be able to make it major briefings in under an hour. He planned on living in the faculty housing anyway so he didn't have to spend on renting a flat in the vicinity and he heard that the faculty houses were rather nice and fully-furnished, it being a very up-there and very exclusive private university after all.

It was the reason he had gotten up at 4:30 in the morning after a particularly bumpy reconnaissance mission, gotten showered, dressed and ready under fifteen minutes and zoomed off on his Yamaha so he could keep his 7:30 appointment with the associate dean.

It was overkill he knew. He could get to the campus in thirty minutes flat if he drove like a steroid-pumped madman on two wheels but he wasn't going to take any chances. He wanted to take a leisurely bike ride through the country side and swing into a coffee shop near the campus that he heard served divine blueberry muffins (his absolute favorite) for some coffee and obviously, muffins. By the time he got to the campus itself, he'd be sated and relaxed with minutes to spare, giving his (hopefully) new superior a great impression of his remarkable character.

Ken sped through the barely-populated streets in a great mood. Soon, the rest of the Weiß gang would be out of his hair and he'd finally get some semblance of peace of mind.

He found the coffee shop without any trouble. It was a quaint little shop with wood and glass panels. He was instantly immersed in the glorious scent of freshly-baked pastries and warm coffee the moment he entered the shop and he couldn't help but grin stupidly to himself. He was having a great day and it hasn't even officially started yet!

Of course he'd be wrong. Then again, he really was one of the most jinxed people in the world.

The man in front of him was just placing his order and glanced at him after doing so. "Hello Siberian ." He said.

Ken blinked, taking a moment for his brain to note this impossible detail. Finally, it registered.

The greeting was cool, as if he had seen it coming all along. (which he probably did in Ken's opinion)

Ken tensed, ready to spring back because he knew that he was no match for Crawford and the gun that was (probably) concealed on his person.

_Damn, of all the cities, of all the districts, coffee shops and of all the lines, it had to be his city, his district, his coffee shop and his friggin line!_ He bit his lip, anxious to literally survive this damn encounter. "Hell Oracle." He said through gritted teeth.

_Good Lord! Why me? Why is always me?_ He lamented. He planned his escape - and yet... he couldn't just leave all these innocent people in the hands of a madman! And besides, there was no way in hell he was going to abandon what dignity he had left by kicking dust and running away.

" On your way to an important meeting, I see." Crawford turned to pay the cashier.

" How would you know?" Ken said suspiciously, already gearing up on a theory of ambush. He could strangle the man right then and there, but he wasn't going to be a coward and attack someone whose back was turned to him. Should he wait until Crawford was outside or should he attack now? Then again, Crawford might whip out his gun and people might die.

He decided to wait. Besides, he didn't have a weapon to fight back with. Quick fists were still no use against a gun. Maybe something had a sharp knife with it, not really a match for bullets, but it was better than nothing at all.

" You dressed up like a human for once." Crawford replied, turning.

Ken bristled at the insult but said nothing. He just stared up at the menu board overhead and searched for the 'knife meal', all thoughts of blueberry muffins flying out of his head like bats out of hell. " Aha!" He muttered under his breath. He watched as Crawford took his tray of coffee and egg rolls to a booth, absent-mindedly tuning out the voice of the cashier.

Crawford lips turned up in a thin smile. The younger brunette was painfully easy to read, and he knew that the reason for Ken's impatience was because he wanted to guard Crawford to make sure he didn't transform into a Mr. Hyde and in a bleary-eyed fit of insanity blast everyone away.

He found the thought... amusing. Ken's tenacity was rather entertaining.

Ken finally got his tray and dropped on the seat across Crawford's booth so he could be near enough to blatantly stare at the Schwarz leader and yet be far enough not to spark an unnecessary scuffle.

He eyed Crawford warily as he attacked his breakfast with a vengeance. Crawford almost laughed out loud when he realized what Ken had ordered at 6:15 in the morning... tenderloin steak... he guessed that it was the only meal they served with a sharp knife.

Ken glared at him all the while he was shoveling spoonfuls into his mouth. Suppressing a smile, Crawford unrolled the newspaper he had tucked under his arm and scanned the headlines. He was almost through the first page when he heard a clatter in front of him. He lowered his newspaper slightly and saw an almost-snarling Ken seated in front of him. He folded the paper and stared at the bristling teenager in front of him. "What do you want, Siberian ?"

Ken glared at him heatedly for several seconds, maybe in his imagination lowering Crawford into a vat of boiling cooking oil or something just as amusingly childish as that and Crawford couldn't help but think that it was moments like these that Schuldich's abilities would come in handy.

After a long moment of contemplation, Ken spoke. "Why haven't you tried to kill anyone yet?"

The question came as no surprise to Crawford, but he found it hilariously amusing nonetheless and Crawford's rich laugh filled the booth. It was the first time in years that he really let all his inhibitions fall away and allow himself to laugh like that.

Ken gazed at him, his mouth agape in amazement. _Crawford was human?_

Ken stared at Crawford mutely like that for the longest while that if he had done so any longer, flies would have flown in and hatched eggs in his mouth.

Crawford stopped laughing, wanting to answer the most endearingly dumb question he had heard in eons. "I don't kill for fun, boy." He said, emphasizing 'boy' with a crude degree of satisfaction. "And I certainly don't kill without getting paid... although I might make an exception if you keep on asking such inane questions."

Ken frowned and scrutinized him in a way he didn't find at all threatening. "You know, you're really not as ugly as I made you out to be." Ken said, before resuming his breakfast, a small smirk on his face.

Crawford didn't have an answer to that.

They finished their food in silence, Crawford once more unfolding his newspaper and ignoring the covert glances Ken shot him once in a while.

Finishing his coffee and egg rolls, Crawford stood and left with his tray, throwing the paper cup in a nearby trash bin. Ken merely watched as he got into his white Cadillac and drove off into the sunny morning. Ken sighed, forgetting all about the gravy-smeared steak knife he had wrapped in tissue paper before he barged in on Crawford. He finished his meal and remembered to order some blueberry muffins for later.

† † †

Ken was trying to forget what had happened at the coffee shop. It was stupid to keep on thinking about it, he knew, nothing serious really happened after all. But Ken was a thinker. If something he thought was significant happened to him, he's think about it the whole day, twisting and turning it over and over in his head making sundry interpretations of every single gesture and every little thing.

Yeah, maybe nothing had happened really but he had to report it to Aya nonetheless and he hated the thought of having to go back to the shop and fall in the line of fire of Aya's constant verbal abuse. Knowing Aya though, he'd somehow find a way to make it Ken's fault like he always did.

His fault.

Aya would make it look as if it was his fault that he had an _accidental_ meeting with the leader of the enemy in which, by the way, NOTHING HAPPENED!

_ Aaaaaargh!_ Ken shouted to himself in frustration. He couldn't wait to move out of the Koneko, away from the giggling girls, from the chain-smoking Yohji, nagging Omi and most of all, the sadistic bastard Aya. He couldn't wait to ace that job interview and shove in Aya's face that he had a new cover, a new day job in a another district!

The redhead would be upset, he imagined. He grinned at that.

He leaned more to the right, his helmet almost kissing the pavement as he expertly made a sharp turn and zigzagged through the mountainous area leading to the university. The campus came into view, amazingly secluded from the rest of the world.

It was perfect.

He could rent a dorm room or maybe he could apply in the faculty housing program. That would be better.

He pulled over at the main office and asked the drowsy guard where the office of the Assistant Dean was. It was his first time on campus, having sent his resume through snail mail.

He took off his helmet, tucked the requirements under his arm and walked off in the direction the guard pointed.

He saw it at once. "Associate Dean's Office," the plaque read. The secretariat's desk wasn't occupied yet so he guessed that he had come early. A glance at his watch told him that it was only 7:10, 20 minutes too early for his appointment and an hour or so after his encounter with Oracle.

He snorted, annoyed with his habit of over-analyzing things. He just HAD to remember that didn't he? He was about to lower himself onto a comfortable-looking couch in front of that AD's office when he heard someone inside say "Come in." and seeing no one else in the lobby, he decided that it probably pertained to him. He wouldn't be surprised if a lot of people applied for the job and the AD wanted to get all interviews over with a soon as possible.

He straightened himself up and entered the room, his helmet hooked in the crook of his arm.

"You're early." The AD said, looking up from his desk of neatly-arranged documents.

Ken stood there, speechless. "Oracle !" He exclaimed, after recovering from the initial shock.

"Brad Crawford, Associate Dean of Daebard University." Crawford gave him a very cold, very professional smile.

"What the hell are you doing here ?" Ken demanded. He had a throbbing suspicion that Crawford and the rest of Schwarz were up to no good. He'd have to find out more about it so that Kritiker could organize a counter-mission. "First of all, Hidaka, Ken," Crawford paused and made a show of poring through his resume. " You have no right to ask that because you are applying to _me_ for a job and demanding what the hell I am doing in this position is not getting you anywhere in my good graces. Second of all, I work here as Associate Dean _legitimately_. Weiß is not the only team with a cover job you know, and I seriously doubt Weiß kill any of their customers."

That said, Crawford motioned for the sheepish-looking Ken to sit on the chair in front of his desk.

Ken shrugged and sat down. He still had the knife after all and he'd had some practice with knife-throwing. He'd have the steak knife embedded in Crawford's eye before the American could have pulled his gun, released the safety and pulled the trigger. If Crawford so much as looked at him cross-eyed, he'd make sure the bastard regretted it. Besides, a job in a school with Schwarz was better than a job in a flowershop with his own team. Ken smiled wryly.

Crawford glanced at him, his expensive-looking fountain pen poised over a silver-lined notepad. "What is your experience in the field of formal soccer training ?" Crawford asked.

" I was in the J-League for two years... before the scandal."

Crawford digested that for a moment. There was no doubt that Ken was very talented at what he does if he was in a J-League team at his age then- even now. If the dossier on Siberian was right, he was only 19 now... and he knew that he had been in Weiß for a little over a year. That would make him 16 when he got into the professional soccer team.

"Scandal ?" He inquired. Ken didn't see his raised eyebrow.

"My best friend framed me and claimed that I was taking drugs. Then he tried to kill me by leaving me for dead in a burning warehouse."

Now that was information the dossier left out. _Interesting._ Crawford thought, pretending to be taking notes although there was no real need. He was committing everything to memory. "I see..." He murmured.

Ken knew that the chance of getting the job was gone (if it had even existed in the first place.) Any self-respecting university official lesser than the AD would draw back at the mention of a scandal, even one that wasn't true, and Crawford, Schwarz or no, was probably going to refuse him.

"So you stopped playing soccer when you joined Kritiker ?"

"I coach kids on weekends."

"Pro bono ?"

"Yeah, but the parents give me something anyway." Ken raised his eyes and met the cobalt-colored eyes gazing at him in careful scrutiny. The bastard was probably stringing him along to see him squirm.

"The soccer varsity trainings are held here at 5:30 every morning. The previous coach had to leave because his hear problem prohibited him from such stressful requirements. Are you willing to travel here from across the city ?"

Ken paused and said "I was thinking of moving to an apartment near here or applying for the faculty-housing program."

_Gah!_ Ken regretted it the moment the words came out of his mouth. He mentally jabbed himself on the head thinking _Smart Hidaka! Tell them all your plans and have them murder you in your sleep on your first day on the job_

"Excellent. I'll see to it that your application is approved. The salary shouldn't be a problem, this university prides itself in giving the highest salary to its employees as compared to other universities. My only concern was the schedule and seeing that you have decided to move here, I'll have the assistant coach brief you later." Crawford picked up the phone and said a few quiet words.

Ken's face lit up in a wide grin. "You mean I got the job ?" He asked incredulously. He had never thought that Crawford would actually accept him.

Crawford gave him a thin smile. "Welcome to the Daebard faculty, Ken." Crawford said quietly, the rims of his glasses shining in the early morning light. "Your locker has been prepared. You should find it easily, it has already been marked with your name so you can use it right away."

Ken was so elated that he failed to realize the implications of the statement.

"You may go, your assistant coach and some of the faculty are waiting for you outside. The varsity training starts tomorrow, I trust you will be as punctual as you were today."

Ken couldn't suppress a grin as he nodded and head off to the door. "Thanks... Crawford."

Ken was beaming when he went out.

"I'm your assistant coach." A small youngish-looking brunette said. He didn't even look old enough to be studying in college, much less be an assistant coach.

"Welcome to the family, katchzen. Enjoy your stay. Don't worry kid, we're going to make sure you do."

Ken stared, speechless. Just when he was getting used to the idea of a Schwarz member not trying to kill him, the rest of the Schwarz were standing in front of him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. There wasn't as much as a hint of malice in their expressions, only genuine welcome. He smiled uncertainly, at that moment trying to figure out how one steak knife could go against at telekinetic, a psychopath and a mind-reader.

All of a sudden, the redhead called Mastermind laughed out loud. "Schuldich, Ken. And the steak knife should get washed before you do anything else with that."

And that was that.

He had a new job.

† † †

_Six months later ..._

Ken grimaced as he chomped into his blueberry muffin. "I think they should have done better. The opposing team was waaaay below their league and they shouldn't have let them score! They're not taking it seriously enough!" He huffed.

"That's because you're idiotic enough to be so lax with them. Make them treat you as their coach!"

Ken raised his hands up in surrender. "Hey, hey! I like these guys! Besides, I don't think they'd think that considering that most of them are even older than me! I'm their favorite coach anyway."

"You're their only coach." Came the reply.

"Well, Nagi's there too." Ken said sheepishly, sipping the hot chocolate from his mug.

Ken put down his mug as Crawford leaned over to wipe a smudge of chocolate for the corner of his mouth.

Outside, the rain started to pour in thick sheets of water, ignored by all the customers of a little coffee shop near Daebard University.

† † †

RM : I'm not sure about the spelling of 'Katchzen' I vaguely remember the German term for kitten only that it sounds something like that. I'm too lazy to go down to my room and check the dictionary. LOL.

Review please! You know how much I loooooove reviews!

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